I turn 70 today and while that seems like ancient history, it really hasn’t taken me all that long to get here. What I’ve learned along the way…is that ‘one big thing’ that Jack Palance talked about in ‘City Slickers’.
Nashville, TN – There’s a reason why I’m in Nashville, Tennessee on this, the marking of my 70th year this weekend. I’ll get to that in a matter of a few short words.
People often ask about what stands out during a span of time of that length, and here’s how I would answer. What stands out to me is the hypocrisy of culture – unimaginable, inescapable, and it is, in terms of its one-size-fits-all, the human failing.
For instance, I read this week that Grambling University has apparently hired former Baylor coach Art Briles to be their new football coach. Grambling, of course, has a fine tradition among predominantly black colleges for its excellence in football under the late hall of famer Eddie Robinson. But in recent years the Tigers have fallen in disrepair, become desperate for a fix, and now they turn to a man to can certainly coach…but at what risk?
Briles was fired in 2016 for allegations of sexual assault by his players on women in the Baylor University community. And Briles, acknowledging that it was “unfortunate”, never took any responsibility for the conduct of the young men that were expressly his responsibility. Adds a different and dark light to the term…leader of men.
Of course, culture is quick to say that everyone deserves a second chance…a chance to redeem and prove that they’re better than charged. But this is not shoplifting, or some other petty crime. There’s no such thing as a little bit of rape never hurt anyone. And back to turning 70 and what you’ve observed along the way, don’t some of you out there question whether we haven’t lost our way…along the way?
I came here for the weekend with my family to see friends and reflect on seventy years of memories, music, time and distance. I found that the old AA minor league ballpark that I worked in on opening night of Nashville baseball, in 1978, was now a parking lot.
My friend Tom Cartwright took me on a tour of the prominent Nashville cemeteries yesterday…to see: George Jones, Eddie Arnold, Dobie Gray, Marty Robbins, and the grave of the man that people in Nashville called “The Voice”, Vern Gosdin.
These guys were all stars over the span of my 70 years, and I loved their music. But the irony of their careers turned out to be that for their record sales and popularity, many of them never made any real money.
Some did, but used their stage popularity for more and bigger success off stage.
Eddy Arnold was known to be one of the richest stars in country music, but he didn’t accumulate all his wealth from music. He bought big real estate, lived quietly, and parlayed investment and patience into $50 million dollars when his estate was settled.
Others took the tougher route.
Vern Gosdin was born in Alabama and went out on the road with a guitar and a band, playing for drinks in California for years before he finally wrangled a recording contract with a company that went bankrupt. Gosdin eventually landed in Nashville in 1977, and with Columbia Records in 1987. With better management, he made a better living, but risked everything he had to do it, including stories of accomplices once threatening to kill his producer.
Marty Robbins, known for his biggest hit El Paso, died in the 80s from repeated heart attacks, the stress of risking everything on music, and NASCAR, and more than his body could withstand.
The list goes on and on with people you admire for their talent, but never dream of their struggle to become heard, or recognized, or even acknowledged. Risk and reward are fickle.
We all takes risks of one kind or another, but those who take the bigger risk are the ones who seem to reap the biggest rewards, even if you don’t last long enough to enjoy it. If I’ve learned anything along the way of 70 years, it’s this.
You position yourself, and you invest in yourself, like a poker hand. And like Marty Robbins and Vern Gosdin, it’s cruel if you run out of aces. Robbins was 57 years old when it happened to him, Tammy Wynette was 55.
Johnny Cash was more fortunate, but the stories of his struggle for success are legendary. Keith Whitley, Paycheck, and all the rest…what a way to live, and never knowing what’s coming next – Patsy Cline, if you want to consider the cruelest of irony.
It’s interesting, and it’s a microcosm of life that every one of us must navigate. You think about it every year you get older. The risks you take, the ones you don’t, and the ones that make you question if you haven’t lost your way.
Art Briles, for instance.
